


Between the Line of Fear and Blame

by sagesiren



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Angst, F/F, Fluff, Swan-Mills Family, these two being idiots as always
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-12
Updated: 2015-09-12
Packaged: 2018-04-20 07:41:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,842
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4779089
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sagesiren/pseuds/sagesiren
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>She imagines a life where their roles are reversed, where Hook ended up dead instead of with a broken nose, and all of the awful she could have - would have - done had she made it to Regina in time, because Emma is so familiar with the darkness that she can practically feel it vibrating under her skin.</p><p>[AU where Regina becomes the Dark One]</p>
            </blockquote>





	Between the Line of Fear and Blame

**Author's Note:**

> I've been thinking about this AU ever since the 4b finale, and I finally convinced myself to write it a few days ago, so here it is!
> 
> Let me know what you guys think :) you can also find me on tumblr, as sagesiren!
> 
> I don't own any of these characters. The title is from "How to Save a Life" by the Fray.

Emma moves into the mansion. For Henry, she says. It’s unfair to uproot him, now that he’s kind of mourning Regina, and he’s always been more comfortable there. Plus, he's been spending all his time reading through his mom's books, so to keep him safe, it makes the most sense.

 

She doesn't say that it's because if Regina were to return from wherever it is she's fucked off to, it would probably be to her house and Emma wants to be the first person to see her, or that it’s also because her parents keep looking at her with these adoring eyes - their savior, their princess, their perfectly _good_ child - and it’s overwhelming. She can't be the savior anymore because she didn’t get there in time. Regina deserved her happy ending more than anyone there that night, and Emma had promised she would make it happen. It's her fault, no matter what her parents tell her.

 

There's a last reason she can’t put a name to.

 

One night when she’s pretty drunk, and (once Henry is tucked safely in bed) she finds herself sitting on Regina’s bed and holding the watch left on her nightstand, and she starts to cry. None of the graceful tears that Snow cries about Regina's true love or whatever, but actual disgusting sobs that make her embarrassed when Henry walks in and sits next to her, tears held in his eyes.

 

They sleep there, Henry dead to the world and Emma fitfully and she tries, tries, tries to not pay attention to the way it smells vaguely like Robin, and instead grips her pillow tighter and wills herself to go back to sleep when everything is okay, right now, where Henry is asleep and the room smells even more like Regina's perfume.

 

(She doesn’t question it, assuming it’s left over from before, from the last time she sprayed it. It’s not until Henry mentions dreaming he saw purple smoke that it clicks. After that she casts a few protection wards around Henry’s room, refreshing them each night, using spells she found in Regina’s desk.)

\-----

 

The next week, Emma doesn’t have time to think about herself or Regina.

 

Henry flat out refuses to see Dr. Hopper, even after he stays awake for three days straight reading through a book from Gold’s shop about the Dark One. She lets it go, feeling at her wits end, until she walks in on him attempting to use magic to put the writer’s quill back together.

 

When she grabs the magic book from him a fight ensues - and she’s not a good enough parent for this, shit - and he’s throwing the ends of the quill to the ground, kicking his dresser and yelling that it’s _his fault_ for not wanting to be the author, for not giving her a happy ending, and how he _ruined everything_ and she’s paralyzed watching her son act the most out of control she’s ever seen him, until he finally collapses onto his bed, eyes red from sleep deprivation, and she sits with him and pulls him toward her, and they don’t move for the long long minutes that it takes for Henry's breathing to calm down.

 

The silence is perfect for Emma to think about how much she hates herself, because really, she does. He’s been trying to be strong for her, her smart, wonderful Henry, trying to transfer everyone else's burdens onto himself, and god she’s not cut out to be a parent, maybe she’s been relying on him too much and maybe she needs Regina to do this, and maybe she needs to see Dr. Hopper too, so she breaks the silence by offering to go as well.

  
He nods, stands, and trying to be heroic again, says, “Sorry about yelling before,” and wipes his nose with his hand. “I think she’ll come back soon, though,” he adds with a weak smile, before going to the bathroom to brush his teeth.

\-----

 

No one has seen Regina, but there are bodies that start popping up, all without their hearts. Emma doesn’t understand why she’s killing these specific people, and she’s mumbling into her fifth coffee of the day, saying “It doesn’t make any sense. These people were just peasants in the Enchanted Forest. I don’t see why they mattered to her,” when David puts a heavy hand on her shoulder and sits on the desk.

 

“Maybe it’s because they don’t matter. She’s getting rid of the people she thinks are unimportant, proving that she has the power to do so - getting rid of the people not connected to her happiness.”

 

“You think she hasn’t gone after you guys yet because Henry would be upset?”

 

“The Dark One hasn’t even looked the wrong way at anyone connected to Henry.” David brushes a hand through his hair, looking out the window. “I have a feeling that if she was able to get her hands on him and bring him somewhere safe, this town would be levelled in minutes.”

  
Emma swears into her mug, and feels way too dizzy to be normal (which could be because she hasn’t eaten in almost ten hours).

 

\-----

 

Henry refuses to go Dr. Hopper’s that week, so Emma agrees to let him skip just this once, because she’s not really prepared to have an hour to herself when all she can picture are the dead bodies on the street, in the morgue, in the pictures on her desk. So they go for a walk.

 

They spot three on the sidewalk.

  
Henry doesn’t argue about going to therapy after that.

\-----

“Why hasn’t she come to talk to us?” Henry asks quietly one night when he can’t sleep, over a mug of cocoa that’s definitely not as good as Regina’s.

 

“I don’t know kid,” Emma says honestly, leaning on the island because she’s exhausted and is just so, so tired. “It doesn’t mean she doesn’t love you.”

  
Henry accepts that answer stoically, and Emma thinks about how Regina is the one who always wanted him, _always_ fought for him when Emma couldn't, and prays that the heart of the truest believer hasn’t given up yet.

  
\-----

 

Emma has cast extra spells around Henry’s room, thinking about what David said, and how Henry misses Regina, and then finds herself in the study with the dagger in hand, and summons the Dark One, watching the dagger shake (and she can’t tell anymore if that’s from the magic or not).

 

It should work. She knows it should, even though she hasn’t tried it yet, giving Regina time to cool off, but she can feel some electricity in the air that gives away that Dark One’s presence.

 

“I know you’re there, Regina,” she says, suddenly angry, suddenly tired of pitying herself and her son when his goddamn mother is too cowardly to show her face. “I swear to god that if you don’t talk to me--”

 

The whole room turns black and purple with smoke, and Emma feels it filling her lungs, and then, Regina. No, the Dark One. Her hair is styled like Emma imagined it was in the Enchanted Forest, her eyes wild, her hands leaking black smoke. “You’ll what?” Regina challenges, sneering. “Keep me from Henry? Too late for that, because I apparently can’t even be trusted around my own _son_ anymore! God forbid I get to say good night, or tuck him into bed. Hide your children; the Evil Queen is dark again!”

 

 _Where have you been? I tried to save you. I tried to give you your happy ending._ “Regina,” Emma says instead, frowning at her. She looks ill, skin sallow and eyes set back.  Emma can’t pity her though, needs to get her own shit together and make Regina do the same, so she tightens her grip on the dagger and sees the emptiness sparking in the Dark One’s eyes. “You don’t think it’s a bit suspicious popping in to watch him sleep?”

 

Regina rolls her eyes, haughty as always, but she doesn’t respond. She sits on the sofa, crossing her legs, and summons an apple to eat. Most of the smoke clears.  Emma sits across from her. “I wasn’t planning on taking him. He would hate me for that.”

 

Emma shrugs. “I just had to be safe, you know? You would have done the same if it was me.”

 

Regina takes a contemplative bite of her apple. “But it wasn’t you, because you didn’t reach me in time for your noble sacrifice,” she says sharply, but doesn’t disagree.

 

Emma ignores the hatred bubbling up in her (at herself, not at Regina, never at Regina anymore) and it’s a slight victory that Regina hasn’t gone on more of a murderous rampage than she already has considering the stories of the Evil Queen, so Emma pushes on. “Where have you been staying?”

 

“My vault.”

 

“Isn’t that a bit cliché?” Emma asks, before thinking, because she always does that, and Regina snorts.

 

“Yes, but seeing as you’ve been sleeping in my bed, I haven’t much of a choice.” Regina watches her knowingly (and Emma _doesn’t_ blush, no matter what Regina will say about that).

 

“You have to stop killing people,” is all she says in response. “Henry sees the bodies that you dump around town and because of you, is having nightmares. If you want to have a relationship with him, you need to cool it down.”

 

Regina pales. “What does it matter to you whether I have a relationship with him or not? You’ve always wanted me out of the picture, and you’ve been scheming to take him away from me.”

 

“That’s not true.”

 

“You were planning on taking him to New York and frolicking around with your flying monkey fiancé, were you not?”

 

And Emma sighs and then Regina is right in front of her, pulling her up by the throat, and she barely registers that neither of them are touching the ground when Regina growls “Why did you summon me here?”

 

“I miss you,” Emma chokes out because she doesn’t know what else to say, because it’s an apology, and it’s not an apology, and there’s always so much grey between them that’s even harder to see now with all of the purple smoke that’s starting to billow out from Regina again, and with them so close-- and the grip on her throat lessens, “but you really have to stop killing people just because they’re useless to you.”

 

“Is that what you think?” Regina releases her, stares at her in outrage.

 

Emma rubs at her throat when she can breathe and her feet touch the ground. “What else am I supposed to think? You can’t have a personal vendetta against all of them. Though I suppose knowing you, it’s possible.”

 

The Dark One grimaces. “Tell Henry I love him.” And she’s gone.

 

Emma considers staying in the guest bedroom that night, where all of her stuff is still half packed, but feels like it would be letting Regina win, and stomps to the master bedroom instead.

  
\-----

 

Henry’s spirits have lifted marginally, both from the message from his Mom, and from the sessions with Archie.  He asks to spend some time with Snow and Charming, and Emma doesn’t know if it’s because he actually does miss them like he says, or because he’s giving her a day off. Either way, she agrees, and takes the time to have her own meeting with Archie because she doesn’t know how she feels about anything anymore (except that she can’t fall asleep in the guest bedroom, whatever that means).

  
Archie is useless, asking her about the nature of her relationship with Regina, and how maybe this has made her put things into perspective. She disagrees, backtracks, talks more about Henry again because that’s a safe topic, and by the end of the hour she jumps up from his sofa and bolts to her Beetle, everything instinct she has making her want to drive out of town and not look back.

She gets herself insanely drunk, and starts a fight with Hook, but at least she's still in Storybrooke. 

  
\-----

 

Regina corners her when she’s brushing her teeth, and Emma almost drops her toothbrush in surprise.

 

“Shit,” she mutters, washing out her mouth and drying her face. “You scared me. What’s-”

 

Regina is all uncontrolled, her eyes darting everywhere, her arms fluttering at her sides, her hands clenching and unclenching. “Command me!” she hisses.

 

Emma picks up the dagger from where it’s laying on the toilet seat, always within arms reach of her nowadays.  “Uh, to do what?”

 

“Not hurt him.”

 

“What?”

 

“Henry,” she explains in a rush. “Command me to not hurt Henry.”

 

“Regina, why-”

 

“Do it!”

 

Emma holds the dagger up. “Dark One, I command you to not hurt Henry,” she says, firmly.

 

Regina sags in relief and disappears. Emma sits on the edge of the bath tub, shaking.

 

\-----

 

She isn’t even drunk when she drives straight to Hook’s hotel room to break up with him. He takes it about as well as can be expected (see: not well at all). He claims she’s just punishing herself because she feels guilty. She punches him and doesn’t feel guilty at all.

 

\-----

 

Emma is drinking a glass of Regina’s cider one night, and summons her again, because _Is that what you think?_ and she needs to know the real reason.

 

Regina watches Emma sip her drink. “Fear,” she says, and there’s a hint of a smirk. “People fear me now.”

 

“So does Henry.”

 

Regina pours herself a glass of cider. “He always has,” but it’s doubtful, and Emma gets it now, the doubt that someone loves her and the need to put distance there to be in control of the awful things she thinks everyone feels about her.

 

Emma downs the rest of her glass. “Stop leaving the fucking bodies on Main Street, or where he can find them.”

  
“Stop drinking my cider.” She poofs away, and the glass falls, shattering and staining the carpet.

  
\-----

 

Emma has her head in Snow’s lap, and there are legos on the floor, and Emma starts to cry. “I don’t know what to do, Mom,” she says, and Snow strokes her hair. “I don’t know how to be a parent without her. I don’t know how to even use magic without her. I can’t do any of this.”

 

David, Neal, and Henry are out on a walk, or playing catch, or fishing. She can’t remember, but she’d shown up at the loft and Snow took one look at her and told David to go have a ‘boys day.’

 

“Maybe she needs a chance to prove herself,” Emma adds, and she can just feel Snow frowning above her.

 

“She never does well when we give her chances,” she says darkly, and Emma remembers the stories, the history, but she doesn’t, can’t care.

 

“She wouldn’t hurt Henry.”

  
“I hope not.” Snow strokes her hair and Emma shuts her eyes.

  
\-----

 

After a month with no dead townspeople (that they know of, but she ignores the fact that the list of the missing is growing because Henry keeps asking and he needs this and maybe she does too), Emma makes a decision.

 

"We need to talk," Emma says, when the smoke clears. "Henry wants to see you, so we're going to make this happen, but we're going to do it my way."

 

Regina presses her lips together and nods. "What do you want me to do?"

\-----

 

Roland and Henry are chatting and drinking juice while Robin and Emma have a beer, and alright, she gets it, because even though the tree hugger isn’t her type, she’d fall in love with him too if it meant getting to hear his kid’s delighted giggles every time Henry makes a joke.

 

Robin scratches his beard and takes another swig of his drink, and shakes his head. “I don’t get it. She told me she was done with me,” he says - and Emma can’t help but bristle at the fact that Regina spoke to someone of her free will, but makes Emma summon her to get so much as a yes or no answer - “and of course I want her to be happy, but she had Henry, Roland, and I, and I thought that was enough.”

 

Emma stiffens because she remembers an evening of alcohol soaked confessions and Regina, _I don’t know why he doesn’t make me happy_ , and Emma doesn’t have the heart to tell him that it hadn’t been enough from the beginning. She makes a show of looking at the clock. “Oh, it’s getting late. Maybe you guys should, uh, head out,” Emma suggests none too gently. “Henry and I need to start on dinner and I promised him we could have some one on one time tonight.” She looks at the kid, and he glances over, flashes her a look, but then smiles at Robin.

 

Robin nods, says “Of course,” like the insufferable gentleman he is, and herds Roland out the door, thanking Emma for her hospitality.

 

“What was that all about?” Henry asks, eyeing Emma like she started an operation without naming it something cool.

 

“He’s kind of annoying,” she says, making a face, and maybe it’s not the most mature thing she could have done, but Henry cracks up and she hasn’t seen him actually laugh in a while.

  
“He kind of is. Don’t tell Mom, though.” Emma kisses the top of his head.

  
\-----

 

When Regina appears in the hallway, she’s in a pantsuit (though a darker, tighter, slightly more revealing one at that) like they had planned it. Everything as normal as possible for the kid during their reunion.

 

“Mom!” Henry yells when he sees her, and he grins like the sun itself just re-appeared, before he remembers nightmares and the dead and he stops himself from taking a step forward. “I’ve missed you,” he says next, hands clenched at his sides.  

 

Emma puts a hand on his shoulder and leads him to the den. “Come on,” she says, directing Regina as well.

 

They all sit down, and it’s a little stiff, everyone dancing around the whole Dark One thing, until Regina says “So how are your classes?” and then Henry’s telling her all about school and Regina is smiling at an anecdote about a classmate pulling pranks.

 

When there’s a lull in the conversation Regina takes his hand, Emma watches with baited breath.

 

“I have missed you so much, Henry,” and there’s no hint of Dark One in her voice and Henry surges to hug her. Regina closes her eyes briefly, and rubs his back, and she’s tearing up, and Emma bites the inside of her lip because she’s not going to cry, damn it, but then Regina is saying “I’m doing my best, for you,” and she’s staring at Emma and it’s so meaningful that Emma stands and excuses herself to give them time alone.

 

By the time she’s come back, Henry’s telling Regina about his and Snow's theories on how to get rid of the darkness, and how to make her good again, and he’s so enthusiastic and Regina is trying so hard but her fingers are starting to spark. “I think it’s time for bed, kiddo,” Emma says, patting Henry’s shoulder.

 

He nods, swallowing disappointment that flashes across his face, and gives his mom one last hug, before heading to bed.

 

Emma plops down on the sofa next to Regina, who snaps, “Isn’t it time to put the wards up around his room to keep me out?”

 

And Emma remembers Regina’s own fear of harming him, knows that she’s looking for a fight; she’d seen the rejection in her eyes so she says, “Henry didn’t mean he doesn’t love you, you know. He thinks that the only way to be with you is to get rid of the dark magic, and, whether he’s right or wrong, you can’t be mad at him for wanting everything back to normal.”

 

“I’m not mad at him,” Regina says, crossing her arms and scowling, “I’m mad at the Charmings for making him think that I need to change to be a good mother. Snow has always been- I will make her _pay_ for whatever thoughts she’s-”

 

And then Emma has the dagger out and says very clearly, “You will not hurt either of my parents, or my brother,” and from the look Regina is giving her, she adds, “or me.”

 

“How dare you use that against me!” Regina’s voice is quiet, but dark and rumbling, or maybe that’s the floor. “I will _not_ be controlled!” She summons a fireball and Emma holds the dagger up and Regina looks at her hand and folds it into itself so the fire turns to smoke. She curses, and disappears.

 

Henry’s there in an instant and, _god_ , Emma is an _awful_ parent she should have known that Henry was watching the whole time, Regina would have known-- but he looks scared and his eyes are too big and too knowing when he asks, “Why didn’t you command her not to hurt me?”

 

And Emma says, “Oh, Henry,” and gathers him into her arms and he’s so tall now, and she tells him that she knows Regina would never hurt Henry, but when he pulls back he doesn’t look reassured.  

 

He shakes his head. “I don’t care, I want you to command her not to hurt me.”

 

Emma rubs at her forehead. “I have. Regina-” She pushes a hand through her curls, her voice thick. “Regina asked me to tell her to, uh, keep you safe-”

  
Henry puts his hand on Emma’s shoulder. “From her. Yeah, that’s what I thought.” He heads to the kitchen, giving up on sleep entirely, and Emma doesn’t have the heart to scold him about it.

  
\-----

 

Regina doesn’t return for a while after that. Henry doesn’t mention it.  Emma tries to finish the dishes from their dinner, something she had gotten used to using magic for after her lessons with Regina, but she can’t get herself to use it now, not when all she can think of is _f_ _ocus, Miss Swan_ , and Regina coming up behind her, positioning her hands, and _let it flow through you_ and _damn it damn it damn it_ she’s not thinking about that so she leaves the rest of the dishes for tomorrow - maybe she can make Henry do it as punishment for being so annoying at dinner.

 

Instead she drinks three beers and wallows in her own frustration.

 

It’s almost 3 a.m. when she goes to her-- no, _Regina’s_ bedroom, and nearly gasps when she sees the Dark One sitting on the bed.

 

“Oh,” Emma says, “you’re here.”

 

“Observant as ever, Miss Swan,” Regina says, but the bags under her eyes betray her confidence.

 

“Are you staying here tonight?” Emma’s not worried, since she doesn’t care too much about what happens to herself, and she’s already put the spells up around Henry’s room. (Ever since Regina threatening Snow, Henry has watched her cast the protective wards - he even suggested she use blood magic, since Regina and Henry didn’t have the same blood and Emma knew it was a low blow, and that he was just mad at his mom, and she was thankful that she doesn’t quite have the ability to accomplish that kind of magic yet.) “I can, uh, move my things and stay in the oth-”

 

“No,” Regina says. Emma doesn’t know if she’s saying no to Emma moving, or no to staying the night in her own bed, but either way Emma shrugs and changes into her pajamas while Regina watches (and that doesn’t give her any sort of thrill because all of the times she’s pictured this happening, she didn’t have a dagger in her hand and Regina didn’t look like she hadn’t slept in a year).  

 

She climbs into bed, doing her best to ignore Regina on the other side of her.  “You’re welcome to stay,” Emma offers.

 

“I know.”

 

Silence settles between them. There’s been so much silence in all of this, Emma muses, as she settles on her side, the dagger still in her hand.

 

“Tell me something,” Regina says, her voice sounding scared now that Emma’s not able to see her face.

 

 _Henry misses you. I’m worried about you. I can't do this._ “Henry can be a little shit when he wants to be,” Emma says instead, because it’s too quiet, and Regina snorts a laugh, obviously caught off guard.

 

“What did he do?” Regina asks, now sounding more alive.

 

“Refused to eat anything other than pasta with meatballs for dinner, and then after I spent hours cooking, he told me they were terrible, and ate frozen pizza instead.” Emma huffs at the memory. “Then he told me flat out that I am a terrible cook and that from now on we’re only ordering in.” The radiant laughter from Regina is worth all of Emma’s annoyance.

 

“He’s very blunt sometimes, yes,” Regina says fondly, and then Emma rolls onto her back and the back of Regina’s finger is stroking over Emma’s wrist and she sighs, relaxing and closing her eyes. “Goodnight, Emma,” Regina whispers, and Emma’s already out.

 

She wakes up sometime in the middle of the night, feeling the dagger slip through her hands and she jumps up, pointing it at Regina, who scowls and climbs off the bed. “Give me a break. You nearly cut your own leg off.” Emma looks down, and the tip of the dagger had been pressing into her thigh, blood already staining the sheets around her.

 

“I thought-” she starts, because she’s half asleep with too much adrenaline, and Regina makes a noise of disgust, waves her hand, and the cut on Emma’s leg is gone.

  
“Idiot,” she snarls. “Stop drinking and take care of yourself for once. Henry needs you.” and poofs away with a flash that nearly blinds her because Regina’s nothing if not evil.

  
\-----

  
  
The next morning, the dishes are gone from the sink, and there are pancakes waiting on the island when Emma and Henry trudge downstairs. Henry snatches up a note that says (in an elegant script, because, of course) “Dinner in the refrigerator.” He frowns, and Emma beats him to it, opening the door to see the tupperware containers filled with meatballs.  They look at each other and grin.

  
\-----

 

Despite the fact that Emma hasn’t seen Regina in person in a few weeks, every night at around 5:45, a new meal pops into existence in the kitchen.

 

The night that there are freshly baked cookies as well, Emma catches a glimpse of Regina outside, picking apples. Henry’s at the table, too busy licking the melted chocolate chips off his fingers to notice, so Emma just watches.

  
Regina gathers the apples, but pauses with one, staring at it intently, before shaking her head and dropping it into her basket, and disappearing.

  
  
\-----

“You could always use the dagger to keep me from killing people,” Regina says, settling into bed beside Emma. They’ve fallen into this habit and neither of them are talking about it because Regina has more color the mornings she wakes up next to Emma, and Emma sleeps better the nights Regina stays.

  
“I know you,” Emma says easily, turning the dagger over in her hands. “You would find a way around whatever I commanded. Besides, I think you need to do this for yourself, to prove you can.” She thinks of the girl her mom has told her about, who wanted to ride horses and live a small life with the man she loved.  “It’s about time people stop controlling you.”

  
\-----

 

Emma skips an appointment with Dr. Hopper because she has a minor cough that could be a cold and doesn’t feel up to going, plus Henry’s with his grandparents that afternoon so she doesn’t have to worry about setting a bad example.

 

When she gets home from grocery shopping, Regina’s in the hallway, armed with a Swiffer.

 

“Uh, hi?” Emma asks, taking her shoes off more carefully than she usually does, and stepping around Regina to drop the groceries in the kitchen.

 

“I don’t know how you two make such a mess of this hallway,” Regina complains, kneeling to scrub at a spot of mud.

 

Emma just shrugs and puts the groceries away, then returns to watch Regina. “Wait, have you been doing this every week?”

 

“What else would explain the fact that every week the house gets cleaned?”

 

“Honestly? I always figured you put some sort of cleaning curse on some household objects, Beauty and the Beast style.”

 

Regina sighs, stands up, and walks to the closet under the stairs where the cleaning supplies are kept (and Emma _definitely_ already knew that). “Apparently cleaning can be cathartic,” she mutters with enough loathing in her voice that it’s clear she’s quoting Archie.

 

“So you’ve been seeing him too, huh?”

 

“Unfortunately.” Regina wrings her hands together, and heads into the kitchen, grabbing a pot and filling it with water.

 

Emma watches as she moves around, pulling ingredients from the fridge and expertly preparing their next meal.

 

Regina pauses as she’s dicing a tomato, her back to where Emma is sitting at the table. “I want to control this,” she says, quietly enough that it’s hard to hear over the bubbling water on the stove. “I’m trying.”

 

“Try harder. I can’t let you around Henry if you’re going to threaten people in front of him.”

 

“Oh, please,” Regina says dismissively and continues chopping the tomatoes “I threatened Snow White every day since you broke the curse. That doesn’t mean I’m planning to actually hurt her just because I’ve got even more dark magic.” She sounds too thrilled for Emma to relax.

 

“Regina,” she says, frowning, “I’m serious.”

 

She pulls out some garlic and dices it, tosses it in a pan with some olive oil. “I know.”

 

“Okay. Good.”

 

It’s transfixing watching her, and the lasagna’s almost ready by the time Regina talks again. “I need to avoid Snow,” the name said with a sneer. “And mentions of _them_. Anything that could… set me off.”

 

Emma thinks about how much darkness she’d always had before this whole Dark One business, to have such hatred and resentment. “How am I supposed to tell Henry that mentioning his grandparents could send you on a homicidal rage?”

 

Before Regina can respond, there’s the sound of the door closing. “Are you trying to cook again? I thought we-” Henry starts, but then he gets in the kitchen. He looks between them. “Hey,” he says, cautiously.  

 

Regina smiles automatically - always happier around him even when he looks worried to be in the same room -  and tilts her head toward the oven. “I made your favorite.”

 

Henry grins, drops his backpack on the tile. “Lasagna? Awesome, thanks Mom. Are you, like, staying to eat with us?” He looks at Emma when Regina doesn’t answer.

 

Emma winces. “Not tonight, kid, but soon,” she says, and both Henry and Regina deflate and she feels awful, but there’s no way the Charmings won’t come up in conversation seeing as Henry idolizes David, and she’s not willing to risk it tonight.

 

Regina’s starting to look antsy and Emma’s learned quickly that that’s not a good sign with her, but before she can say anything Regina grabs her purse. “I should get going.” She doesn’t give an explanation, but she does kiss Henry’s forehead, and smooth down his hair gently, like he might break.

 

Henry tells Emma about Snow deciding to try and become principal all throughout dinner, and though she still feels guilty, Emma’s relieved that it’s just the two of them that night.

  
\-----

 

David gets the call, and Emma watches as his face hardens.

 

They drive to the shore, where a body has washed up. No heart. One of the few others that have disappeared in the past weeks.

  
Emma had really been hoping it was a new bad guy, some rogue dragon or Bigfoot or maybe even Stitch because that's one they haven't seen yet, but they spot more bodies washing up and Emma doesn’t want to think about why Regina was so angry the night before.

  
\-----

 

The body count slows down and Emma is so goddamned relieved because she’s really the one to blame, when it comes down to it, for not laying down the laws with the Dark One when she had the chance ( _and for not getting there in time_ ).

 

Regina is sitting on the castle when Emma shows up just to double check that they didn’t miss any bodies the last time they checked the beach, since there are still a few missing people and Emma doesn’t think about them, can’t think about them right now.

 

“Dumping your bodies in the ocean. Classy.” Emma sits next to Regina. Regina doesn’t respond.

 

Until finally, “You said not to leave them on Main Street,” because of course that petty logic made sense to her, and then quieter, “I don’t want to get rid of it, Emma. I feel powerful again.” Her voice is so sad, so tired, so dark. Emma doesn’t look at her, afraid to see the shadows on her face. “I feel like me, again, after pretending to be something I wasn’t.”

 

Emma can’t really say anything, because she can feel the darkness in herself still, despite the things she tells her parents. She feels like she’s acting all the time in this town, trying to be more than human, when in reality she can think of a few people she’d probably have killed by now if she had become the Dark One, had her attempt at saving Regina been successful. And maybe part of that attempt was just so she’d have an excuse to be awful, an excuse to feel more like her disappointing self while still being the prodigal daughter.

 

She buries that as quickly as she thinks of it, locking it away because she’s _good_ she’s _light_ she’s _the fucking Savior_ and she can’t be thinking things like that.

 

But Regina is the Dark One, and Regina has years of being manipulated and being hurt and betrayed and alone and Emma can’t think of anything to say to her because she understands.

 

Her parents grew up loved, and they grew up with friends they could trust, and they don’t get why a wild animal that's starving will hurt whoever is in its way, why Emma keeps giving Regina second chances, why she won’t let anybody else even _near_ the dagger out of fear of what they’ll do to Regina.

  
So they just sit there, and at some point the Dark One rests her head on Emma’s shoulder as they watch the waves roll in.

  
\-----

 

“Why can’t we have Mom over? Hasn’t she been good?”

 

“She’s just not ready yet, kid.”

 

Henry looks up from his homework. “I’m not an idiot. I know she’s still hurting people,” he admits, putting his pencil down. “But I think that just means she needs us more. I know she can’t hurt me, or you, and I was reading the book again - like, _the_ book, the Story Book - and her whole life she must have felt so abandoned and maybe that’s why she’s acting out now, because she thinks it’s happening again.”

 

His eyes are pleading, and Emma sighs. “You’re too smart for your own good, sometimes,” she mutters, and stands up, opening the fridge. When the killing started again, Emma banned Regina from cooking in the house when they’re not home, but even still, dinner is waiting for them every night. She pulls out the tupperware and sniffs at the ratatouille, idly wondering if Regina installed a kitchen in the vault, or if she just sneaks into  the mansion anyway.

 

“You didn’t actually answer my question,” Henry counters, though he has a look of pride from her half compliment.

 

“I did, when I said she wasn’t ready.”

 

Henry mutters something and Emma rolls her eyes. “Just for that, you can clear and set the table.”

 

He stands and gives her an unimpressed look. “You can’t use a chore I do every day as a punishment. That makes no sense.”

 

Emma pours the ratatouille in a pot and turns the stove on. “I can do whatever I want, thank you very much.”

 

“Just, think about what I said, okay?” Henry asks, back to sounding innocent and sad, and Emma’s resolve melts almost instantly, and wow, he probably does that on purpose, now that she thinks about it.

 

“I will,” she says, laying her hand on the dagger that’s sitting on the counter.

  
\-----

 

She wakes up, but only just, and in the darkness of the room can make out Regina shaking back and forth, staring at what’s in her hands. “It’s consuming me again,” she is saying, over and over and over and Emma sits up and pushes her hair out of her face, and then Regina disappears, the dagger falling to the bed.

  
\-----

 

Emma is sitting at her desk when she hears screams outside. She looks, expecting the absolute worst, but instead just sees Regina, looking smug as she strolls down the sidewalk.

 

She grabs her coat and is out the door in an instant.  

 

Granny darts out of the diner holding her crossbow and _fuck_ , she runs in between the line of fire and Regina. “Alright, everyone calm down,” she says, holding up her hands.

 

“I’ll calm down when she’s dead,” Granny says, holding her crossbow at the ready.

 

Regina smirks, lifts a hand to do something terrible, most likely, but Emma tries not to think about what as she yanks Regina’s hand behind her back, and then grabs the other one.

 

“What the hell are you doing?” Regina demands, dark energy swirling around her like she might magic herself out of the situation.

 

“Arresting you for disturbing the peace. And, uh, murder,” she says smoothly, and tugs her by the elbow to the station.

 

“She deserves to pay for what she’s done!” someone yells after them, and Emma pulls her along quicker.

 

“Do you honestly think that a cell is going to hold me?” Regina asks as they make it inside, grinning at David when he stands and grabs his sword automatically.

 

“David, chill, I got this. Go on your lunch break.”

 

“I’m not leaving you alone with her, Emma,” he says, protecting her as always.

 

“I guess she hasn’t told you that we sleep together every night, then?” Regina asks, somehow even more smug now than before.  

 

David looks to Emma in disbelief and Emma groans. “Dad, please just give us a minute, okay? I’ve got the dagger, I’ll be fine.”

 

He nods, eyeing them both warily, and pulls on his coat.

 

When the station is empty, Regina poofs the handcuffs off, and frowns down at her wrists, right as Emma demands, “What the hell, Regina?”

 

“I was bored.”

 

“So you walk through Main Street of your town, of which you’ve murdered nearly fifty people in the past six months? What was your real reason?”

 

In the face of Emma’s anger, Regina shrinks, pulling her scarf tighter around herself. “That was my real reason. It’s a perfectly good reason. I’m not allowed to see my son and I’m not allowed to hurt any of the people who have actually wronged me, so I am _bored_.”

 

“And it helps your boredom to be reminded of how much everyone hates you, Regina?”

 

“No,” she frowns, “I-”

 

“I’m doing all I can to make people stop demanding I parade your severed head around town,  and you’re not making it any fucking easier!” Emma throws her hands up in the air and starts pacing.  “Not to mention, this single parent thing is really hard, let alone being the Savior who can’t save anyone, apparently, because you keep killing someone every time the mood strikes. And Henry keeps asking for you and he doesn’t even know about half of the bodies and he’s just a _kid_ , and he misses you, and what am I supposed to do?” she finishes, arms falling to her side. She takes a deep breath and shakes her head, pressing her fingers to her temples. “Actually, don’t answer that. Just tell me what you were doing so I can add it to your already long list of offenses.”

 

Regina had been watching her with wild eyes. “It’s all I have left, Emma,” she snaps, and Emma looks at her in confusion.

 

“The town?”

 

“The fear,” and Regina’s eyes are black, darker than Emma has ever seen them, her hair surrounded by dark energy. “They fear me, and that’s all I have. That’s all-” the aura around her disappears, and she leans against the wall. “I have _nothing_ except the darkness, the Dark One, the Evil Queen. I’ve lost Daniel, and Daddy, and god, _Henry_ , and you- I, I can’t-” her breath is coming shorter and she sinks down the wall, she starts to sob, “I have nothing but the darkness, Emma, I need them to fear me, because- I can’t, I don’t-”

 

Emma kneels next to her, slowly. “Regina, you can fight this. You have me, and you have Henry. But I can’t keep defending you. You need to calm down with the instilling fear in people thing. And maybe you’ll find a way to get rid of this darkness along the way.”

 

Regina’s staring at her, eyes wide like Henry’s, and the tear tracks on her cheeks are lined with black from her make up. “Even if I get rid of it--” and Emma doesn’t miss the way her eyes flash dangerously at that, “-- no one will ever trust me again. It took me years, Emma, I was finally good, I was finally--” she takes a shuddering breath, “I was finally good enough for him.”

 

“Then stop sulking and start trying to be that person again,” Emma says, exasperated. “Jesus, Regina, show me that you’re actually trying - I don’t even need full success, which I’m sure you would have demanded from me, if our roles were switched - just  _pretend_ you care about the lives of others and we’ll work on visitations.”

 

Regina, looking affronted, looks away. Emma crosses her arms.

 

“I’m going to do better.” Regina pulls her knees in to her chest. “If Gold could act like a normal human while being the Dark One, then I sure as hell--” and then she hiccups, and Emma looks to her in surprise. Regina looks so startled that she can’t help but laugh.

 

“That’s not- I’m upset,” Regina says, and then hiccups again, and Emma hasn’t gotten enough sleep since she arrived in Storybrooke, and more caffeine than blood in her body, and she just keeps laughing. “I can’t believe you find this funny, Miss Swan.”

 

“I don’t,” she lies, shifting to lean against the wall next to Regina, their shoulders touching. “I didn’t know the Dark One hiccuped.”

 

“You’re such a child,” Regina says, but Emma can hear the fondness in her voice and so she takes Regina’s hand, and when she looks down, they’re glowing with what looks like light magic and then Regina is watching in shock and it’s gone, almost as soon as it appeared but it was there and they both saw it and that is the most important thing in the world.

 

“Do you want to come over for dinner this week?” Emma asks, her laughter calmed down and her anger drained out of her. “I could really go for homemade pizza and I’m a terrible cook.”

 

“So you’re inviting me into my _own_ _house_ come and _cook_ _for_ _you_?”

 

“And probably do the dishes after, too.” Emma stands, and offers Regina a hand. “Thursday night, Five o’clock?”

 

Regina takes the hand, and stands, waving a hand past her face to fix her makeup with a puff of purple smoke. “Five o’clock,” she agrees, and is gone in a cloud of smoke, and Emma sits at her desk and tries to figure out what just happened.

  
\-----

 

“These are real people, with real lives and families, Emma,” David says, shaking his head as he signs another form, another dead townsperson whose name Emma can’t make herself read.

 

“She’s doing better,” Emma takes a bite of the bear claw, and wipes the crumbs off her lap.

 

“All I’m saying is don’t let your guard down.”  

 

She nods, because he’s right, and because she’s been callous to all of the dead but it’s Regina and she can’t just turn her back on her after everything. “I know.”

 

\-----

Regina’s dusting the study when Emma finds her. “More cathartic cleaning?”

 

Instead of answering, Regina looks at her. “I want to see him, unsupervised.” Emma clearly hesitates, and Regina continues. “I won’t hurt him. I can’t take him away from all of the idiots in this town because he cares about them and he would resent me and I won’t have that.”

 

Emma sits on the arm of the sofa. “I don’t know if that’s the best idea.”

 

“Please,” Regina asks, holding the feather duster like it has the secret to happiness.

 

Emma raises an eyebrow. “Fine. Tomorrow morning you two can hang out, make breakfast, play video games, whatever, as long as you don’t leave the house. I’m going to be upstairs the whole time.”

 

“I’ll take it,” Regina says, nodding.

 

\-----

 

“You’ll wake your mother,” Emma hears Regina scold, and so she moves even quieter on the stairs. It’s been two hours, and she’s practically starving now, so she can’t stay out of the kitchen any longer.

 

Henry scoffs, “She sleeps like the dead.”

 

When Emma makes it to the kitchen, homemade muffins cooling on the counter, and Regina has flour on her face, and they’re both smiling.  “Look at what your son did to me,” she says, motioning to the flour. “I should ground you, young man.”

 

Emma goes to the fridge to get herself some orange juice, smiling at the familiar conversation. “Yeah, right,” he says, rolling his eyes and sitting at the island. “If you don’t have to stay at the station for killing a bunch of innocent people, then I don’t have to stay at home for a weekend because I threw flour at you.”

 

Everyone freezes, because there was more than just joking in Henry’s voice but he’s panicking, realizing what he’s said.

  
The oven beeps. “Enjoy the scones,” Regina says tersely, and is enveloped in a cloud of purple smoke.

  
\-----

 

It was Emma’s suggestion to try a magic lesson, but she’s regretting it now that she’s in Regina’s vault and a bottle containing a greenish potion is whirling past her face. “How did I get my light magic to work in the station?” she demands, as if Emma holds the answer.

 

“Uh, wasn’t this lesson supposed to be about working on my magic and not yours? And shouldn’t you know the most about magic, oh Evil-Dark-One-Queen?” she asks, ducking as something that looks like a severed human hand - _why the hell does she have a severed human hand_ \- flies toward her.

 

“Entitled brat,” Regina mutters, and Emma focuses her magic on an empty bottle on the shelf, and makes it zoom toward Regina’s head. “Watch it!” she snaps, catching the bottle easily, and walking over to put it back on the shelf. “That bottle contains the deadliest, most dangerous poison in my possession.”

 

Emma walks closer, wrinkling her nose at it. “It looks empty.”

 

“That’s what makes it so dangerous,” Regina adds, adjusting its place in its alcove.

 

“Huh. I guess that makes sense,” Emma says, and then she sees the smirk on Regina’s face. “Ugh, I can’t believe I fell for that.”

 

Regina laughs, winking at Emma. “You are so very gullible. But, you should be more careful about which bottles you choose. Some of the more innocuous ones are pretty harmful.” She reaches past Emma to turn one, their arms brushing.

 

Emma clears her throat. “Anyway. I’m still struggling with conjuring things. I would really like some pointers.”

 

Regina rolls her eyes. “That’s quite literally the easiest magic to master, Emma. I’ve no idea how you don’t injure yourself every time you use magic, as you seem to have no clue how to do anything.”

 

“Is this how Rumplestiltskin taught you? Because the discouragement thing doesn’t really work for me.” Emma leans back against the stone wall, and Regina turns on her, fury and darkness taking over as she steps into Emma’s space.

 

“Actually, he tricked me into crushing an innocent woman’s heart by making me lose all hope for love,” she snaps, placing a hand on either side of Emma’s head. She stops, pulls back, frowns. “Sorry. I’m… working on it,” she says, and Emma (who was pretty convinced she was about to die ten seconds ago) reaches out and grabs Regina’s hand.

 

“Hey, it’s- I mean, that was terrifying, but I get it. Shit happened to you, you never really had a safe space to deal with those emotions, and now it’s being forced out.” She squeezes Regina’s hand in hers and Regina winces, but it turns into a sort of thankful, shy smile, and then there’s warmth between them and their hands and glowing white and--

 

“Oh,” Regina says, and Emma just stares because one time is a coincidence but twice is not. _Oh_.

  
\-----

At their next designated visitation, Emma drinks a glass of wine and watches the Dark One in hopes of learning how to actually make something that the kid deems palatable.  

 

Henry avoids talking about the Charmings, and Emma avoids talking about the one corpse they found during the week, and Regina avoids any outbursts of magic or anger. All in all, a successful meal. (Neither Henry nor Regina mentions what he said the last time, but he offers to clear the table and doesn’t flinch when Regina puts a hand on his arm to thank him, and then he hugs her like he can’t help himself.)

 

When Henry’s disappeared to do his homework, Emma makes her way back to the kitchen to find Regina cursing a fork to endless suffering, or something of the sort. “What did it do to you?” Emma asks, and Regina nearly jumps.

 

“It was bent,” Regina says, scowling at it.

 

“Right,” Emma says, and Regina makes the grumpiest face and it’s actually kind of cute and then Emma is kissing her, pressing her against the sink and the fork falls, unnoticed, because Regina’s lips are warm and she makes a surprised noise and Emma pulls back. “Thanks for doing the dishes,” she says awkwardly.

 

There’s magic at Regina’s feet, a twirling cloud of purple with tendrils of black, and then a cloud of white just above it and maybe this makes sense, the two of them. “Yes, well. Of course.” Regina says, drying her hands on a tea towel, and trying not to smile.

 

It’s something, and it’s everything, and it’s the magic in the room that’s making Emma feel giddy, she decides. “We should, um...”

 

“Of course,” Regina says again, and they go to the den and sit on the sofa, their thighs touching. “I don’t want to get rid of it,” she says softly, but her frown betrays her doubt.

 

The dagger is still hidden where only Emma could find it (because she’s not an idiot, despite what a certain Dark One says about her, and she’s not taking any chances yet), and Regina talks. “I don’t understand,” she says, kneading her hands together in her lap. “Belle and Gold kissed all the time. It never gave him light magic, or calmed the Dark One.”

 

“I am the Savior, though,” Emma jokes, and Regina cracks a smile, and Emma notices that her eyes are finally looking brown again. “I could very well have special kissing powers.”

 

She imagines a future where Regina says _We could test that theory_ and she imagines a life where their roles are reversed, where Hook ended up dead instead of with a broken nose, and all of the awful she could have - _would_ have - done had she made it to Regina in time, because Emma is so familiar with the darkness that she can practically feel it vibrating under her skin.

 

But instead, Regina says “I’m going to do my best,” firmly, staring out the window. “I’ve dealt with dark magic before. This is just,” she grinds her teeth, “an extra challenge. I’m going to fight for this family.”

 

Emma remembers _It’s consuming me again_ , and puts a hand over Regina’s. There’s a dim glow under her fingers, and the color of Regina’s skin is almost back to it’s normal shade. “Okay,” Emma says, because whatever else is happening, it’s starting to feel like progress, and the vibrating under her skin dissipates when she realizes she’s a part of the family Regina’s talking about.

  
There are still missing townspeople, and history, and darkness, but there’s also Regina, holding up her hands and staring as the white light rolls off her her fingertips, like maybe she can be happy, and maybe that means Emma can too, and that’s good enough for now.

 

 


End file.
